Edge of Heaven
Rod Mayer has been the
youth pastor at New Hope community church , Spartanburg ,S.C. ., for 15
years, and many in the church credit he and his wife Janet for being an
instrumental tool in their children’s faith journeys. Through Janet’s
recent three-year struggle with cancer, she kept a positive outlook and
was often the one who cheered others who were saddened by her condition.
The Sunday after she died, the church was treated with stories of how
Rod and Janet, knowing the end was near, had spent a beautiful week
together in Hawaii. We also heard how Rod had taken their two children’s
favorite toys and put them in a paper bag out of sight. He told them
that although they couldn’t touch their toys or play with them, they
knew where they were, and it was going to be the same with their Mommy.
They wouldn’t be able to touch her or play with her, but they would know
she was in heaven.
Two days later, with Janet in heaven, a memorial
service was held at the church. There was not enough room for everyone
who came. There were stories about Janet from those who were closest to
her. Some tried to laugh and bring lightness to the heavy emotions by
recalling her sunny disposition. I imagined Rod on the front row, choked
up by all this. I wondered if he might speak, but then, if it were me, I
surmised I would not be able to.
Suddenly, Rod was up on the
platform speaking. He told us how in her last few moments Janet stood up
in bed, reached her hands up to heaven and spoke. When he asked her who
she was talking to, she said, “Angels.” And then he and a friend laid
her back down on the bed, and she died.
I thought it was pretty
courageous of him to do this—to tell us these things—given his situation
and the frailty of human emotions. But I was soon to be even more
surprised when he strapped on a guitar and began leading us in songs of
praise & worship. Let me tell you, that was an experience like no
other. It was the closest I’ve ever come to worshiping with the saints
in glory. There was such a sense of reality in knowing that Rod could
not do this if he wasn’t looking out over the edge of heaven right then
as he sang. This was not drummed-up praise. This was exuberant,
from-the-bottom-of my-shoes praise. There was no lie in it.
Rod’s
voice carried over everyone else’s, and there was something about it
that was different. It had a strength and confidence that was mystical,
if not eerie. It was almost as if he stepped over the edge of heaven for
a moment and sang to us from there. I swear I heard a glorified voice.
And then, if that weren’t enough, he had us all bow our heads and he
gave an invitation. Yep. I’m not making this up. He told everyone at his
wife’s funeral that this would be a really good time to make sure they
were ready to die, and then he told them what they needed to do to
receive Christ. From the edge of heaven, he welcomed a number of people
into the family of God.
Rod is not a big man. He’s not a tall man.
He is slight in build and usually a little nervous around people. But
let me tell you something: Rod is a huge man now in my eyes. Bigger than
anyone I’ve ever met. I’m sure he will go through some long, lonely
days. By the time you read this, they may be his longest ever. I don’t
know, but I hear it’s the little things you miss—the coffee ready, the
toothpaste squeezed in the middle, the sniffle during a touching scene
on television, or simply turning around and forgetting for a split
second, that there is no one there. Not to mention all the support you
had the first few days that is now gone. Not anybody’s fault; it’s just
that way. They have to get back to their lives, and you have to go back
to yours, except yours will never be the same.
I know after that
service I'll never be the same, and I hope you won’t either, even just
from reading this. And you know what else? If you don’t know what’s
going to happen to you when you die, Rod would want you to do something
about that. Right now. He would want you to make his loneliness
worthwhile by meeting him someday, at the end of days, on the edge of
heaven. You can do it right now.
Your prayer could sound something like this:
Lord Jesus, I want to know you personally. Thank you for dying on the
cross for my sins. I open the door of my life to you and ask you to come
in as my Savior and Lord. Take control of my life. Thank you for
forgiving my sins and giving me eternal life. Make me the kind of person
you want me to be.
Jan Bagwell
God Bless !
Pastor Rod Mayer , we love you and your Family